We Are All Fools in Love
by A-Flame-That-Never-Dies
Summary: Pride and Prejudice based AU. Story is hopefully better than summary. Thank you to phantomsmelody1871 for being such a great help. Disclaimer: I own nothing. Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

_In which we become acquainted with the Thénardiers _

The reader must surely know that Monsieur Thénardier was the gruesome innkeeper of the Sergeant of Waterloo. The custom in his establishment was not much, and the man resorted (although I daresay he made a hobby out of it) to pickpocketing to enable him to pay his rent.

In this knowledge, the reader is sure to ask how Monsieur Thénardier came to own the Café Musain. Had he inherited some meagre fortune through a distant relative? Or had his luck come around from more sinister means? There has been many a drunken customer of Thénardiers' to invent such tales, most of which are not fit for repetition, and none of which are close to the truth.

All that is known is that the family moved to Paris in 1823. Nothing of consequence had happened since, and therefore nothing more shall be said of the matter.

We should mention however, that with them went the only employee of the otherwise family-run business. A young woman whom the eldest of the Thénardier children, Cosette, could not remember ever bring absent from their lives. She had never had a family, and worked not for a wage but for bed and board. The people of the town in which she grew up in had known her as La Petite, and therefore so shall we.

The Café Musain itself was a small establishment in Saint Michele, badly in need of repairs. Why, the building looked as if it would collapse to its side at the slightest of breezes! It consisted of four floors, the top floor having been reserved for the family. Monsieur Thénardier shared the largest with his wife, the second belonged to his three daughters, and the smallest was left for his three sons.

Our tale concerns the Thénardier daughters, and begins in the late summer of 1831.

The two eldest were in the front room, wiping down the tables and un-stacking chairs in preparation for the café's busiest hours in the evening.

Cosette, who we have already mentioned, was the gentlest soul in the world. A shy girl, who was drawn to adventure like bees to honey. She was intrepid in her own little ways; whether it be a walk in the Luxemburg gardens to hunt a variety of miniature 'monsters' – a hobby she had taken up in her childhood – or simply exploring the latest novels. She had a face which ought to be captured on canvas, gold-threaded chestnut waves, which were kept soft by the customary hundred strokes per night, and eyes, the pale blue of the ocean at dawn. It was a rare occurrence indeed to see her without a shy smile gracing her lips.

Éponine was but a year younger than Cosette. Her hair was slightly darker and of a more reddish hue, with hazel eyes so dark it was impossible to differ between where her iris stopped and her pupil began. She kept herself clean but not tamed. Loose strands of hair spurted from her pinned up ringlets like water from a fountain. She was usually a quite a sensible girl, but there was an air of impishness about her – a spark of playful mischief ever-present in her eyes.

Fifteen was the agreed age at which the girls must begin work in the café. Cosette and Éponine had taken up the chores without complaint; however Azelma, who had only turned fifteen a few weeks prior to the present point in our tale, found the work trying on her temper. How could her parents force her to waste time on such trivial tasks? She would be much better to spend her time with a curling iron, putting her hair into ringlets of a ridiculously huge size! She had vivid auburn hair, giving her the appearance of a tree in the fall. Out of all the daughters, she had the fullest figure – a stark contrast to Éponine's boyish frame. She had cat-like green eyes which were currently narrowed, aflame with rage at her mother.

Azelma had gone off in temper tantrum after being asked to sweep the floor of the backroom. This had quickly dissolved into their mother's usual self-pitying rant about the various ways in which her daughters would never attract a husband.

This is how all conversations with Madame Thénardier went. One could make a remark on something as trivial as the weather and it would end with her howling about her lack of son-in-laws.

Azelma was in a particularly sour mood that day. She was barking at her mother to the point that her throat felt raw, and Madame's screeches made the entire structure tremble.

Cosette and Éponine rubbed their temples in a vain attempt to cure the ache in their heads.

"You'd think the world revolved around men when you consider the way _Méré _harps on about husbands." sighed Éponine. She scoffed before adding "She may as well be one of them."

"You should not be so judgemental!" replied Cosette. "Not all men can be like that."

Éponine snorted. "Are they not?" she exclaimed as she plopped herself down on a chair. "In my limited experience they are all brutes with disdain for everyone and everything but themselves and liquor!"

"Exactly."

This caused Éponine to raise an eyebrow in question.

"You have a limited experience of the world." said Cosette matter-of-factly.

"That does not mean I am wrong!" Éponine protested. She sighed and rested her chin in her palm. "There is no so such real man that is as amiable as those in our novels." Eponine smiled sadly as she gazed out of the window in a dreamy daze.

Cosette put a hand on her hip. "One of these days 'Ponine, someone will catch your eye." she prophesized. When Éponine rolled her eyes she failed to supress one of her musical giggles. "I imagine that it will be quite amusing to see your struggle to watch your tongue then."

Éponine was about to scoff when a tall gentleman entered the café.

**A/N: Big, big, BIG thank you to phantomsmelody1871 for reading over this for me! I highly recommend her story 'Musical Match-Up!'. It's hilarious!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I think my lovely readers should be aware of the fact that plot of this story won't strictly follow that of Pride and Prejudice. Some things have been cut or drastically changed. For example, Pemberley may be a giant furniture wall rather than a grand estate.**

**There have been some slight revisions to the last chapter, but nothing too major. You may have noticed that the rating has gone up, but that is because of the language future chapters may contain.**

**Thank you to my supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious (for some reason the document editor won't let me save that as one word) reviewers. You keep me motivated.**

* * *

_In which there is a fuss over a tall gentleman _

The man in question, as we have mentioned, was tall. This fact was exaggerated by the hat upon his head. When he removed the hat – which he now grasped the brim – it unveiled a mass of golden curls. He had a sort of presence – a majestic aura which compelled Éponine, who sneered at high-society decorum, to stand up and curtsy rather clumsily when she asked "May I be of any help, _M'sieur_?"

"I was hoping to speak with the owner of the establishment if possible?" he stated politely.

Éponine's hands flew out in front of her, gesturing him not to be alarmed "I do not know what you may have found in your sausages, _M'sieur_, but I assure you it will not kill you!"

He remained remarkably calm. "You need not fret – I have not eaten any sausages."

"Oh..." Éponine silently cursed herself for possibly driving away a potential customer. However, if he was repulsed he did not show it.

"I will fetch _Père_." Cosette announced, cleverly avoiding what would have surely been a disastrous explanation. She turned on heel and disappeared up the stairs, leaving a dumbstruck Éponine alone with the stranger.

The gentleman began to pace the room in contemplation of his surroundings. His expression did not betray his thoughts to Éponine.

"Would you like a drink, _M'sieur_?" she asked, determined to make amends for her outburst.

"No." He would not spare her so much as a side-glance when he replied in a somewhat haughty tone. Éponine frowned and resumed her task of cleaning the tables.

She kept her gaze cast downwards for he was terribly intimidating. His scrutinising glare scorched her back, even though it was probably just her imagination. But she did not want to glance up to check.

Thankfully, Cosette promptly returned with their father, who had previously been adding up the family accounts. He had been about to open a bottle of whiskey when his daughter came in to inform him of the stranger. After she guaranteed that it had nothing to do with sausages, he agreed to speak with him in the backroom.

Cosette was struggling to conceal her smirk from her sister once they had left. Éponine chuckled at the bizarre faces she was making. "What on earth is the matter with you?"

"I told you so!" Cosette giggled, succeeding only in puzzling Éponine further. "You seem quite taken with that gentleman."

Éponine put a hand on her hip "I may have been taken aback by him momentarily but that is all." When Cosette raised an eyebrow she added "I made misjudgement based on a person's appearance. I shan't be sorry if I never see him again."

"But you admit that you find him handsome?" Cosette whispered like an excitable schoolchild at the back of a classroom.

"Angelically, but-" she was interrupted by a bout of soft laughter from Cosette. "But that does not mean he is any better than any other man! So I give you the scoff that is long overdue from our previous conversation."

She did as she promised before turning on heel and made for the stairs. However, before she reached the first step, Cosette delicately grasped her arm. "What are you doing? You cannot interrupt _Père_!"

"Oh, Cosette, do you really think so little of me! Are you not aware of how dangerous it can be not to investigate a suspicious stranger? Why, you could end up six feet under!" Éponine whispered with feigned alarm, her mirth laced tone giving her away.

Cosette gasped in realisation "You are going to eavesdrop!" Éponine smirked in answer to this before ascending the stairs. Cosette – never being one to shy away from adventure – followed although more cautiously. They made sure they were far up enough so that they could both hear and see the conversation, but not so much so that they could be seen through the concealment the thicket of table legs provided them.

It disappointed them that they had missed most of the conversation, but nonetheless they did manage to see the man had over a thick wad of money to their father. Realising that the man would be very likely be leaving soon, they rushed back downstairs before he would suspect anything.

* * *

Not long after the man had left the girls were called to the kitchen, giving them very little time to speculate as to what their father's deal was.

"I'm sure it was nothing of a corrupt nature." Cosette had insisted.

Éponine fought a laugh "Oh, Cosette, do you remember nothing of Montfermeil?"

_M'selle_ La Petite was fighting the urge to wrinkle her nose at the questionable ingredients she was putting in the mincer. Madame answered the woman's unspoken prayer when she shooed her from the room.

"Girls, your father and I have such wonderful news!" squealed Madame.

Their father intervened before she could say anymore. "We have rented out the backroom to a group of bourgeois students."

Azelma squeaked at the thought of the café being filled with handsome young men, and received a pointed look from Éponine who inquired "For how long?"

"Apparently they'll be holding meetings here every night for some sort of literacy society. They've already paid for the first month." Thénardier elaborated. He emitted a grave sigh before continuing. "I am not going to pretend that you are not aware of the fact that we are struggling financially –"

"Is that why you didn't get me the gown I wanted so dearly for my birthday?" demanded Azelma with great venom.

Thénardier rolled his eyes before continuing. "This is an important opportunity – we are on the edge of bankruptcy as it is, and therefore because they are such valuable customers your mother and I will be taking care of the backroom, so I must be able to trust you three to manage the front room on your own."

"Monsieur Thénardier, you tiresome old louse!" bellowed Madame Thénardier "It must be the girls who take care of backroom! These young men are such a fine thing for them! I will not have you ruin their opportunity!"

Éponine ought to tell her that no bourgeois in his right mind would ever marry an innkeeper's daughter. Even if he wished to society and his family would never allow it. But the headache from Azelma's strop had only recently worn off and she did not wish it back again.

Such was the case for everyone else, as they complied with Madame's list of extra demands – at least by their family's standards – without argument.

* * *

Madame shrieked at the sight of Éponine when she returned with her brothers whom she had fetched from the elephant a few hours earlier than usual due to the rescheduled time of their dinner. Since the reader must be curious about the elephant, we shall explain that first.

The Elephant of the Bastille was a monument devised by Napoleon in 1808. It was intended to be made of bronze, but only a plaster model was ever crafted. Over the years had fallen into a state of disrepair, and was consequently replaced by the July Column – but not completely removed until 1846.

It was the Thénardier boys' equivalent to a medieval castle of which Gavroche, the eldest of the three, was king. The trio would wake at the crack of dawn and race to it in the _Place de la Bastille_. Éponine would get them in the evening whilst their mother was preparing their dinner. The youngest of the boys would be exhausted by this time, so she would carry him home with his sleepy head nestled on her shoulder. The other two would run ahead still immersed in their games of pretend.

Madame's screech had woken the little lad rather cruelly. The boy hopped down from his sister's embrace and scampered after his brothers who were already at the dinner table.

"My god, 'Ponine the state of you!" screeched Madame, marching over to viciously snatch her dress in order to inspect the hem, causing the girl to whine like a child.

"When you consider the downpour we got yesterday, _Méré, _it is hardly surprising." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Just hurry up and change for Christ sake!" she clucked her tongue as she examined her daughter's hair in a similar fashion to the dress. All of her hairpins had now made their escape from their proper place, and were now lost in her tresses. Due to the wind her hair was now knotted in a way that resembled thread, and her cap didn't do it any favours either.

Éponine and her stomach groaned in unison "Can I not eat first?"

Madame heaved a gruff sigh. "If you must eat hurry up about it – but for heaven's sake, change your boots first! I've just cleaned the floor!"

"And another thing!" she added as Éponine made her way upstairs "How many times do I have to tell you to get rid of that coat?" Éponine rolled her eyes and slumped against the banister. "You already look like a boy without it! Oh, why did you have to turn out to be such a fright?"

Éponine made an improper one-fingered gesture when her mother turned her back on her.

* * *

**A/N: Once again, thank you to phantomsmelody1871 for being such a fantastic help. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for taking over a month to update. I'm busy with exams at the moment, so my target is to upload a chapter a month. **

**It was actually quite difficult to write a believable debate between Éponine and Enjolras. I hope it didn't turn out to be too cliché.**

* * *

_In which we meet Les Amis de l'ABC_

_Les Amis de l'ABC_ were a group of charmingly peculiar individuals who, with the exception of Feuilly – a modestly successful fan maker, had become acquainted through their lectures at the Sorbonne University. Jehan and Grantaire were the creative minds – Jehan being one to adore the world and Grantaire being one to be cynical about everything that was not alcohol. Combeferre and Joly were medical students, but whereas Combeferre was training to be a doctor; Joly was training to be a patient. And as for the rest, they were studying the law.

There was one _Amis_ who was currently absent for the goings-on at the café, much to the chagrin of Enjolras; whom we have previously met. Something he made very clear when the young man arrived at last.

"Courfeyrac, you were supposed to be here an hour ago." growled the leader, looking up from the books and papers before him.

"You need not glare at me like that, Enjolras. I was merely helping a friend." the evidently happy-mannered Courfeyrac groaned as he went to sit at a table with Joly and Bousset.

Enjolras stood, crossing his arms across his chest as he did so, as though to wordlessly remind him of his authority. "Who?"

"A Monsieur Pontmercy."

"Not the Pontmercy from our classes at Sorbonne?" asked Bousset.

"The very one."

Bousset frowned. "Seems a bit of a nincompoop if you ask me."

"And nincompoops are undeserving of friends?" exclaimed Courfeyrac. "We cannot very well say that we fight for equality if we look down on Pontmercy because he happens to be a bit of a nincompoop! And in any case I don't think you are very well qualified to be calling anyone a nincompoop, _Mon ami_. For was it not yourself who pretended to be the very man you are calling a nincompoop so he would not be expelled? And did you not get yourself excluded as a result? I think you might want to reconsider your previous statement."

Joly gave a mortified Bousset a pat on the back.

"What is matter with Pontmercy that caused you to be so late?" asked Jehan, who was sitting with his legs hanging over the back of his chair, and his hair pooled on the floor. Apparently such mannerisms are common with poets.

"The poor fellow was disowned by his grandfather, so I'm letting him stay in my apartment until he can find a place to call his own – or until the argument is resolved, but he seems determined to be independent. And I can't say I don't understand why anyone would think him a nincompoop, but nonetheless he is a decent fellow, and I was hoping to introduce him to the _Amis_. I did not wish to pry into the reasons that caused his grandfather to disown him, but he did mention in passing that the row was over political differences."

Enjolras, who had previously lost interest in the conversation during Courfeyrac's little 'nincompoop' speech snapped to attention. "And you believe him to be a republican?"

Éponine, who had been exchanging confused looks with Cosette, narrowed her eyes and tilted her head in a bird-like fashion. "You're not a literacy society in the slightest, are you?" she stated with a smirk, thinking herself rather cleaver for discovering their ill-kept secret so early.

Silence descended over the room, as if they group had just received word of the death of a friend. Enjolras was the first to speak up. "This is not a matter you should be concerning yourself with."

"How so? Do not forget that I live here. I have a right to know what you're doing. If you were to be caught, it would not only be you who was arrested, but my family as well." Perhaps putting on a spoilt brat act was beneath her, but the man needed to be put in his place.

"Or maybe I want to help." she added with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Thank you, but that will not be necessary." he stated, turning back to his papers.

"Why? Because I'm a woman? My apologies; I did not realise you fight only for the equality of men." she said, her voice laced with venom.

Enjolras spun back round to face her. "Are you questioning my ideals?"

"Yes." declared Éponine, raising her chin in defiance. "You are certainly going about claiming to support equality in a questionable manner."

"And what would you advise me to do different?" he snorted.

"I would advise you to stop acting high and mighty among your friends. That way, people might actually believe that you mean what you say." she stated matter-of-factly.

Grantaire almost choked on his absinthe, sputtering the drink over Bahorel and Feuilly. In truth, the criticism had stung Enjolras, but he appeared as indifferent as ever. Still, he was quick to change the course of the conversation. "You advice is highly appreciated, Mademoiselle, but I cannot allow you to put yourself in a dangerous situation."

"You do not have the authority to allow me to do or not to do anything!" she countered. "And in any case, if I should find myself in such a situation, I shall not be scared. The national guard are all men. Well, I am a woman. I have no reason to be afraid of them."

Enjolras frowned. "That's foolish."

"And you're not?" scoffed Éponine.

Cosette had had quite enough of the bickering. "Oh, would the pair of you stop arguing so childishly!"

Éponine only proved her point by sticking her tongue out at her sister. "It's not an argument, it's a friendly debate."

The whole room simultaneously raised an eyebrow.

**A/N: And thus in the not the next chapter, but the next again chapter Marius will enter as our Mr Collins! No pitchforks/flaming torches/any object you can use to fulfil your violent intentions. Thank you.**

**I really want to make cover art for this fic, but I do not have Photoshop on my computer. If anyone would be willingly to help me I would be eternally grateful. **


End file.
